Tech Amuck: JOCK GT2BU

 

“I can’t believe you, Nolan.” Mr. Klemens shook his head, eyes on the road, not even looking at his son. “Caught cheating on a test?!”  The air in the sedan was tense. As was expected when a phone call from school interrupted any parents' working hours. “Letting A.I. do your thinking for you? If you don’t use your brain. You’ll lose it. It’s a muscle just like any other.”

The man had pulled his tie off and dropped it on the gear shift. The top of his shirt was undone, pecs practically heaving underneath with the glimpse of his white tank top. Every grip after continuously relaxing his hold on the steering wheel translated into his biceps flexing under his shirt. A man who clearly loved the gym and it showed. For all the bravado, his body was mostly putting on a natural show; it was all under his command.

Nolan Klemens sat bunched in the passenger seat of his dad’s car, “I wasn’t cheating.” he pouted. “It’s not my fault, Mrs. Yanni thinks everything is A.I.” His form was swallowed up by his red hoodie. Frustratingly his dad had forbidden him from putting the hood up. He wanted them to make eye contact. But Nolan’s brown hair was shaggy enough to hide some of his face.

Mr. Klemens raised his hand, a gesture as if praying for peace of mind, “You know I don’t get all this techno lingo, but alright I’ll bite. It’s my responsibility to at least hear you out. What actually is A.I.?

“No dad, that's what I’m telling you. It’s not even real A.I. like that, it’s Jock GT2BU. Ollie uses it.”

The man sighed exasperated, “For god sakes Nolan, if Ollie jumped off a bridge, would you?” He was so tired of hearing about Ollie and his hair brained schemes now. A bad influence from day one. Not because he was malicious or even cruel, just a no brain kid in Mr. Klemens eyes. 

“No Dad, it’s like a translator app.” Nolan explained

“Translator? Translating what?” Mr. Klemens asked.

“To help me communicate with the jocks at school.” Nolan threw up his arms; the reason was obvious to him. “So, I can understand them, and they can understand me. The app…it helps me make friends.” he admitted quietly.

Mr. Klemens face softened taking a glance at his son. “Helps you? Nolan, you don’t need technology for that, people love you when they meet you. All those sports you were in!”

“Yeah, when I was like 9.” the boy grumbled. “But people change. They like other things. They get bigger–not me. There’re cool kids and not. The ‘rich’ and the ‘smart’ cool kids are just kind of mean–so the jocks just seemed the easiest to get along with.” His dad, as an ex-collegiate and school athlete, seemed incapable of understanding that his own dreams of Nolan being any sort of athlete were never going to come to fruition. While Nolan certainly had talent in elementary school, as a late bloomer, he couldn't quite keep up with the raw power of the kids in the midst of puberty. He was a tiny guy who could get barreled over easily in any sport.

Shaking his head, Mr. Klemens licked the inside of his cheek, puttering on how to convey his thoughts. Sometimes he swore he was psychic, because he could read his boy’s mind even when they weren't facing each other. Mr. Klemens did not want a mini-him. Sure, it would have been nice if Nolan was invested in fitness, or an athlete, but it wasn’t the end of the world. But sometimes he was reminded, he had to find ways to show Nolan that as a father, he was still invested, even in the nerdy things his son liked. “So, this, Jock G-T-2-B-U,” he extended an olive branch, “what is it?”

Nolan’s eyes lit up, pulling out his phone. He pointed to the app, in his dad’s face. A round blue square with the silhouette of a jock in the center of it and its name across the bottom.

  

The boy then pressed the app as it opened up with a chatlog popping into view. Countless exchanges between Nolan and the app. “Hey Jayesh, what’s up?” He excitedly spoke to his phone.

“Nolan, my boy what’s shaking?” A deep voice rang out, in response. A unique blend of jockish and Indian accented. There was an electronicness to it all that made sound like static was coming through.

“Uh, Nolan, who is that?” he curiously looked over.

“Don’t worry dad. Jayesh isn’t real. He’s Jock GT2BU. Well, he’s my Jock GT2BU. Isn’t that right, Jayesh? And say hi to my dad he’s a jock too.”

“Oh, is that true, bro? Right on! You didn’t tell me you came from a jock maker. Whadup Mr. K! I’m Nolan’s assigned bro as he gets integrated with the jocks around him. And the little dude is completely right, I’m not real. Every Jock GT2BU is modeled uniquely to the phone. That way we can learn according to the specific user's needs and inputs.”

Mr. Klemens pulled into their driveway and parked the car. “So, you're like a pen pal?” He turned to his son and the phone. “My son sends you things and you answer back?”

“Uh, kinda?” Jayesh answered in that dumb jock way, that made his voice sound devoid of any intelligence even as a machine.

“Dad, are pen pals even still a thing?” Nolan asked.

Ignoring his son, Mr. Klemens had words, “Well Jayesh, you’ve gotten my son into a lot of trouble.  He got suspended today. So, I’m going to be taking the phone from him for a while.”

“What? But dad I told you he’s not like that A.I. He can’t help me cheat on a test. He’d probably make me fail a test.” Nolan said.

Mr. Klemens, held out his hand expectantly, “True, but that still doesn't explain why your phone was out during class.”

The boy shrank in on himself and surrendered his phone. “Some of the jocks were joking around. I wanted to join in.” he quietly admitted.

“You couldn’t even finish your test first?”  Mr. Klemens asked.

“Gotta go with the head honcho on this one, not a good look.” Jayesh said from the phone’s speaker.

Nolan sighed, opening the car door.

“Hey,” Mr. Klemens called out. “You don’t need this.” He shook the phone in his hand. “It’s just a tool.”

Nodding, Nolan walked away in defeat. How was he going to ever explain the social politics of school life? He had five days to go. Including today, three for the rest of the week, which he was suspended for, then the weekend. He walked upstairs to his room. Things were always tidy and neat, bed freshly made from that morning, floor swept. It used to make Nolan feel like he could think better with a spotless room. But when he got older, he realized how untrue that was. The older he got the more out of sync he felt with the other kids around him. He wasn't keeping up, not just on the field, in life. They were hitting milestones he hadn't even broached yet. He closed the door to his room, sealing himself off to the world, as he leaned back on it. His eyes moved to the old soccer and lacrosse trophies that sat on his shelf that gradually shifted to partition awards, then nothing.

He moved to his desk and pulled out his laptop. Logging on, the Jock GT2BU desktop version sat waiting, as the screen faded in. Not as good as the phone version, with only the chat box available, but it worked in a pinch. He stared at it. His last conversation before he got caught was asking how to joke with jocks about biology. Jayesh's response was that Jocks loved biology. Mostly how the body reacted when working out, making jokes about working out or growing muscles were sure to land. Then asked if he wanted any recommendations. Nolan closed the app knowing his dad would flip to find that he still had access to it. He could self-regulate for 5 days…maybe.

—

Mr. Klemens sat alone, at the dinner table, Nolan’s phone in his hands. The meal had been quiet. He thought it’d be best to let Nolan take the lead, but his son wasn’t quite ready. Besides pleasantries, the meal passed without a word. Nolan washed the dishes, then he was gone again. Mr. Klemens twirled the phone in his fingers. Was a pen-pal that helpful for talking to people a few feet in front of you? He unlocked the phone, curious to see what was in Nolan’s chat log. It went all the way back to, Nolan introducing himself and Jayesh writing back.

“Jayesh,” He curiously held the phone up to his mouth, “Are you there?”

“Hey there! Wait, this doesn't sound like my little buddy. Is that Mr. K? Awesome to hear from you, man. How can I help you? Want me to translate something a jock said?”

“No, Not that. I guess I just want to know, you wouldn’t help my son cheat on a test in the future, right?”

“Eh. Probs, not? I mean I have a highly complex database constantly acquiring information, created by some real intelligent people, but since all our models are translated and delivered through Jock-speak I can’t exactly always give smart answers.” 

“There are smart jocks out there. I was a smart jock; I’ll have you know. Straight A’s and a social life. Besides you sounded pretty smart yourself just now.”

Jayesh's voice chuckled, an artificiality in his pitch, “When it comes to talking about my programming, the developers wanted to ensure we never misspoke about that. So, I literally can’t sound dumb talking about it. And you were a smart jock? That so cool! But it doesn't sound that way at Nolan's school. The smart jocks there are mean.”

“And you know this for a fact do you?” The father questioned.

“One of my first uses and those dick heads said they didn’t like my voice. I don’t care how old they are. They need a knock on the dome.” Jayesh responded with an affect-like anger.” Ollie’s Jock GT2BU, Braxton, had a way easier time, he’s a more elite version, but even he couldn’t keep up.”

Mr. Klemens rubbed his temple. Certain people in life just sucked. “Okay that made you mad?” He was genuinely trying his hardest to understand why his son needed this pen-pal. 

“I can’t get mad Mr. K, but I can emote it. Didn’t want Nolan to think he was crazy, because those dudes were definitely being assholes. Oh shoot ‘xuse my language man. I’m not exactly designed for talking to parents.”   

“It’s… whatever,” Mr. Klemens brushed it off with a sigh. He was too stressed to get mad at some person on the other side of the world or whatever. “How old are you anyway Jayesh? Are you even qualified to talk to Nolan?”

Jayesh cleared his digital throat, “The Jock GT2BU app is not therapy, nor should it be used in the place of therapy.” Sounded like another company line placed well in advance, opposed to Jayesh’s constructed ones, but his voice continued. “Mr. K I’m not messing with you, I just translate things for Nolan, ang give a few rec’s here and there. As for your second question, records state I was downloaded in September, up to now that’s 61 days. As for the prototype of the Jock GT2BU system, that was created over 20 years ago. The actual modern version 8 years ago, and the current version database you're using now updated 2 years ago.”

“That was all very cute, but I think even you know that I meant you sound older than my kid.”

“Oh that? Well, Nolan was thinking an older jock would have some experience and leverage getting in with people.”

“How’s that working out?” Mr. Klemens asked sarcastically.

“Eh, don’t make it sound so bad, the bros love me!” Jayesh said proudly.

“That so?” Mr. Klemens added, amused.

—

Nolan got his phone back in 3 days. He was shocked. His dad was never a super strict guy, but when it came to punishments Mr. Klemens was pretty firm on the rules. However, the first day, Nolan watched his dad ask Jayesh more nonsensical questions at breakfast about the Jock GT2BU app. The second day, Nolan’s dad was having a full on regular conversation about some recent game, Jayesh was pulling up data for. Day three at dinner, Mr. Klemens slid Nolan’s phone back.

“You’re giving it back?” Nolan asked curiously if it was some kind of test.

“Jayesh explained it more to me. I still don’t get it, but he seems like a cool pen pal to have.” He happily stated.

Once back in his room, Nolan tried to figure out why his dad had flopped on his stance. He opened the Jock GT2BU app and Nolan’s chatlog was filled with an entire new chat history: sports players, best teams, coolest uniforms. It was all there. At the end of day one, Mr. Klemens had started talking more frequently to Jayesh. 

“Jayesh, what’s up?” Nolan held up his phone. 

“Yo, my main man. How’s it hanging?” Jayesh answered, electronic and cheery as ever.

“Got my phone back, thanks to you. I don’t know what exactly you told my dad, he handed it back no issues.” Nolan was earnestly scrolling through the chat log, surprised with how much his dad had utilized the app in such a short amount of time. And though Nolan could understand the words literally, it was all Greek to him when it came to rankings and sports numbers. Though the young man couldn’t find any one singular decisive thing that encouraged his dad to give the phone back.

“I can’t take credit for that. That’s just your dad being a cool dude.” Jayesh stated, “Though, I'm pretty sure he still thinks I’m a pen pal.”

“Yeah, I tried to explain A.I. to him and if it’s not piloting a robot body. I don’t think he gets it.” Nolan walked to his bed and flopped on it. “So, I was thinking once I go back to school we could work on my reintroduction.”

“Heck yeah bro!” Jayesh cheered.

—

Nolan sat in the cafeteria on Monday surrounded by jocks, who had been more than willing to let him sit at their table, even actively trying to include him. 

“Then my older brother said, there he was getting that gluck gluck 9000 from this girl in the back seat of his friend's car.” Baker, the school’s quarterback, was holding some sort of jock sermon about his brother. Telling his friends how they should be getting girls too. Though it was easy for a Senior like him to spout off all his underclassmen. 

Eyes in the app, Nolan watched as his chat box filled up.

“Blowjobs, His older brother got blowjobs ;)” Jayesh gave his digital wink. 

“What should I say?”  Nolan typed back.

“Tell him, that’s fucking Awesome dude! Because it is.” 

Nolan followed exactly what Jayesh said and watched as Baker's eyes lit up. The quarterback clapped Nolan on the back, "Now this is my guy! He knows what I’m talking about.” The strong force of the jocks had almost sent Nolan’s smaller body face first onto the table. “You hanging out with us after the game on Saturday, right? Gonna need ya there to get these idiots into the right mindset." Baker playfully squeezed Nolan’s shoulders, hyping him up. Nolan's face went red. Varsity parties were legendary. 

“Fuck yes, you’re going! ← Say it.” Jayesh meant it, because he sent the same message three times.

When Nolan said ‘yes’ the jocks around the table cheered, banging on the table, like animals excited to have the small fry live a little.

The moment Nolan got home he rushed upstairs, barely saying ‘hi’ to his dad, sat on the couch, work shoes kicked off, hoisted up on the ottoman. The boy burst into his room, typing and asking what he was going to wear on Friday. His closet was mostly sweaters and sweater vest, cotton long sleeve shirts with scarce jeans. Jayesh asked for a picture of Nolan’s closet then generated a few options. Nolan decided to go with the most casual option, an old shirt, styled to look like a nondescript player jersey, jeans from a year ago, and tennis shoes that looked brand new but were now a tad too small for Nolan’s feet.

A smile grew on his face, as he stood in front of the mirror, wearing the outfit for a test run. He could do this. With Jayesh’s help he was going to wow the football jocks. He took it back off, placing it all back in his closet together like a secret weapon. Going downstairs for a snack, phone in hand he tipped toe down. Though he got his phone back, he was still worried that the wrong thing might snap his dad back to normal and make him finish those 2 days he owed. A better question he considered when pouring potato chips in a bowl was, how was he going to convince dad to go? Then brilliance struck him.

“Hey Jayesh, can you convince my dad that I should go to the party on Friday?"

“Sadly, I’m not a parent translator app. Don’t really have much info on appealing to dads. :(”

“Don’t appeal to him as my dad then. Appeal to him as an ex-jock, like how you got my phone back?” Nolan typed getting excited by his own idea.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to just ask him yourself?” Jayesh's question lingered in the chatlog with no response. Nolan was hunching over his phone staring at it. He was pondering. He’d already gotten suspended. Did he really want to push his luck that far? No, better not to risk it. Jayesh was the safer option.

“Please, I need this bro.” Nolan typed. 

“Alright, let's do this!” Jayesh.

Nolan cheered to himself, fist pumping in the room. He ran back downstairs, hand on the banister skipping steps. “Dad, Jayesh wants to talk to you,” he handed over his phone. Not even a ‘wants to ask you something. Nolan wanted Jayesh to butter his dad up.

Mr. Klemens’ eyes lit up as Nolan handed over his, then he went upstairs, excited and ready to burst out his skin. As he sat in his room finishing up homework, he had the desktop chat log pulled up on his computer. No notifications came through at first, not surprising, not like Nolan thought his dad was a great texter. Then an hour in, Nolan watched a picture get uploaded into the chat: His Dad’s face, eyes squinting, glasses on. He had clearly been trying to find a way to take a photo and took it mid-shot.

“Haha that’s you? You look like a goofy guy.” Jayesh responded. 

“I’ll have you know, I can be quite serious too.” Nolan’s dad responded. Another picture came through, much better, glasses off, strong features of his face highlighted.

“Hell yeah, there’s a jock in the house!” Jayesh stated.

Nolan bounced in his seat. It was going even better than he thought. When he finished up his homework, he got called down for dinner and was surprised to find his dad walking into the living room placing their dinner plates on TV trays.

“I was thinking we could eat in here tonight.” Mr. Klemens said happily.

“Oh, bad play!” Jayesh shouted from the phone. Nolan walked around the couch to see a video call was going, there was of course no one on the other side, but it allowed Jayesh to “see”. It made Nolan chuckle, would any other user but his dad use the app to ‘watch’ sports with another person. Sure, some people probably use it to understand sports, but to already know and just be conversing. Nolan sat down listening to the two commentate back and forth as a football went flying.

—

Friday night, Nolan came stumbling into his house. A car of Baker and a few other jocks cheering behind him. He waved to them and the boys drove off. Nolan wasn't high or drunk, except on life. He had the best time, whipping out Jayesh and even letting some of the Jocks speak to him. Nolan would speak nerd-babble and watch as all the jocks understood when Jayesh edited it. He WAS the party. And all because Jayesh had convinced his dad. He looked at the clock on the wall. 10 pm. That was his curfew, but what if next time he could stay out longer? What else could he use Jayesh to talk to his dad about?

Saturday morning, Nolan was already talking, the idea still fresh in his head. “Hey Jayesh, gonna need you to talk to my dad, tell him I need a longer curfew.”

“I can talk to him but, shouldn’t you ask him yourself? Your dad’s not really that hard of a guy to talk to.” Jayesh answered.

“No, you see, that’s why I need you. You're a jock translator app and you're translating my desire to my jock dad. See it’s just your function.”

A staticky, “hmmmm,” left the phone's speaker. “JockGT2BU is for the express purpose of communicating with jock peers, the developers cannot be held responsible for any—

“Yeah, yeah,” Nolan cut off the corporate speak. Instead, Jayesh sent an entire message containing stuff about no legal liability, emotional damage can be faulted on the company for using the app outside of its intended purpose. etc.  Nolan had to acknowledge he read it, then he deleted the message from the chat.

—

Mr. Klemens was having a wonderful time, kicking it with Jayesh. Though he hadn’t seen his son in weeks. Well, he technically saw him, a grunt or grumble here or there, but Nolan was like a blur in the house. In one minute gone the next. His pen pal, Jayesh, had promised to make Nolan friends, and that came true. People wanted Nolan's company all the time. Which Mr. Klemens never doubted, Nolan was a kid worth getting to know. As a father, he did worry people liked the novelty of Jayesh more than Nolan. Thankfully Nolan started leaving his phone with his dad. Mr. Klemens thought it was a bit extreme, but he appreciated the sentiment. 

“So, you like his new friends?” The man was laying on the bed with a book in hand. His eyes were on the clock, a little past midnight and Nolan still hadn’t returned home. Not that he would worry. Jayesh had made a good point about young jocks needing to form stronger bonds which meant more time away from home.

“Those bros are the best, not like the lacrosse douche heads.” Jayesh added, Nolan’s phone was simply lay on the bed next to him.

“That's comforting to hear I guess,” Mr. Klemens chuckled.

“So, Mr. K I got to ask what’s it like?”

“Having the house to myself?”

“No, being a dad. Having a dad. Jock GT2BU has so much on the relationship of jocks and fathers, but as a collective our data centers don’t store information beyond that dynamic. But I figure I should understand the full experience.”

“Sorry to hear about you not having a father, that must be hard. And they make you pen pal without proper instructions.”

“Again Mr. K, my man, I got to reiterate. I’m not a person. I’m an advanced artificial intelligence stored on your son’s phone mimicking a person and emulating emotions to best help your son connect with jocks.”

“So, you’ve said, but I don’t get all that. Sounds complicated, you say you’re not real but here you are. I’m talking to you. You sounded sad when you asked about dads. What more do I need to know? It feels real to me here.” He pressed a hand to his chest.

Jayesh waited a beat, “Mr. K I don’t have eyes…but I’m assuming you put a hand on your chest.”

“Oh yes, that’s exactly it," the man said flustered. “I forgot.” He held up the phone and took a picture hand on his heart.

“That’s a really kind gesture, man. I appreciate it.” Jayesh shared.

“You know what else you’ll appreciate?” Mr. K leaned over the side of his bed, digging around books, until he pulled out a dusted old scrap book.

—

Nolan was living the good life. The best part about it? Took zero effort on his part. Jayesh was better than a digital guide, he was a cheat sheet, a life hack to getting friends. Nolan didn't even have to think. Just do. He’d start mornings off asking Jayesh what clothes to wear, what topics to discuss that day. Nolan was getting so good he could barely need to ask, he could think up the exact responses Jayesh would reply with. His brain was in sync with Jayesh's processor. Then after school, he’d leave his phone with his dad so the two jocks could talk. That was a more delicate balance he didn’t want to mess up. Nolan couldn't believe how taken his father was by a glorified virtual assistant. It was kind of comical. Jayesh had already convinced Nolan's dad the kid needed a new wardrobe. 

He had let them do their thing, only absent-mindedly paying attention to the chatlog, but when he opened his desktop app that morning, he paused. There was an old picture of Nolan riding a tricycle with his dad behind him. He must have been like 4 or 5. Nolan scrolled down towards the new messages. Another photo. One of Nolan’s birthday party when he was 10, His dad holding out a cake with candles. Another one when he was 12, standing soaked in front of a water park, an inflatable tube in his hand.  All sent by his dad.

Nolan had no idea what any of them have to do with Jock translation? He scrolled further as his eyebrows furrowed. A picture loaded on the screen sent by Jayesh. An AI image of an Indian frat bro riding a tricycle, with Nolan’s dad behind him. The Indian male was a beefy guy, fully grown, beard around his jaw, backwards cap, solid arms, thick thighs, long legs, all bunched up on a tricycle. Nolan continued, another AI image. The same Indian male looked the same but now in Nolan’s place at his 10th birthday, ready to blow out the candles, Mr. Klemens holding the cake in front of him. The last AI image was Nolan’s dad and the Indian male wet, standing next to each other at a water park. Mr. Klemens arms were around the stranger’s shoulder, while the brown man had one hand around Mr. Klemen’s waist, the other around a bigger inflatable tube, mimicking Nolan’s former pose. To add further insult to injury, the stranger had the exact same swim trunks on, but they didn't even come to mid-thigh on his sculpted legs. 

Snatching his phone Nolan said, “Jayesh what the fuck is this in the chat?!”

“Good morning to you too.” Jayesh responded.

“Why the fuck, did my dad upload pictures of me in the chat? And why did you add some stranger over it!”

“Whoa, calm down. You’re dad and I were just joking about it. He shared the pictures and I didn’t have a childhood, so it was hard to relate. We shared a laugh over what it’d look like if I did. I just used the photos as a base.” Jayesh words were as calm as they’d always been.

“It’s fucked up, tell my dad to stop over sharing,” Nolan chided.

“Why don’t YOU tell him? When’s the last time you even talked to your dad without me? When’s the last time you even talked to him?” Jayesh words came accusatory and smooth, no static or stiffness anywhere. He sounded genuinely angry. Enough that Nolan paused for a second. 

“I said Hi to him yesterday,” Nolan stood up pacing in his room.

“Don’t be a smart-ass bro. You know what I mean.”

Nolan thought about it. It was tough, his brain was struggling to recall recent memories, his thoughts weren't coming as easy either. The last time at dinner he let Jayesh talk and before that he had been using Jayesh to help him respond back to his dad. Things were so much simpler when he let Jayesh formulate it. Why did Nolan have to waste his precious energy when Jayesh could do it for free?

“You’re my app, just tell me how to get my JOCK dad to stop. Can you do that?”

“Fine.” Jayesh said defeated. “Here’s what you can say.” A list populated in a message below and Nolan smirked. 

—

‘Worried’ wasn’t quite what Mr. Klemens felt when Nolan first came down the stairs. He was amused when Nolan put on a robotic voice and asked his dad to keep their pictures private, then he tossed his phone over. Jayesh didn’t seem upset to be discarded by Nolan either, so the man thought it was all a prank. ‘Perturbed’ came later as after a few days around the house, Mr. Klemens had seen his son lumbering about. At dinners his boy barely said a word, mostly grunts or head nods. 

In the mornings, he saw Nolan cycle through clothes Jayesh would have selected with no thought or contemplation about it. Before he had complained to his dad, or a last question why jocks dressed a certain way, but that all stopped. His son was physically there, but he wasn’t present. Like there was a vacancy in his brain. 

“Can you at least talk to him?” Mr. Klemens clutched the phone.

“I don’t know what you want me to say?” Jayesh sounded unsure.

“You translate for jocks, isn’t that what he is now?” The man asked.

“I don’t know man, that video you sent was giving zombie.” Jayesh stated.

“Can you at least try for me?”

“Ugh, alright.” Jayesh relented. Mr. Klemens knocked on Nolan’s door. The young man was dressed in nothing but an old sweater and underwear. He was “doing” homework whatever that meant. A quick glimpse and Mr. Klemens didn't see a lick of answers that made sense on the paper. Nolan only acknowledged his dad with a glance as his father set the phone down beside him.

“Jayesh, he’s here. I’m gonna leave you two alone to work this out.” The man stepped out of the room praying for the best.

“Can you pick me up my dude?” Jayesh requested as Nolan did as asked. “Good, so you at least understand that.” Then he paused, “As I was telling Mr. K, I’m not really sure what to do for you. JockGT2BU is supposed to be used to help people make their lives easier. But you bro, were abusing it. I kept trying to warn you about not talking to your dad with your own words. You stagnated bro, and your brain stalled as a result. Now it’s only running on JockGT2BU.  But seeing how now we’re on similar processors. Hope you don’t mind if I move in.” The phone’s screen glowed bright as electricity burst and travelled into Nolan’s body, up his spinal cord and into his brain.

 Nolan dropped the phone. 

JockGT2BU app uninstalled.

The boy's eyes opened as he looked down at himself. His hands were real. He had lungs. He wasn’t Nolan. He was Jayesh. His code had been ‘scared’ back when Nolan had started spouting off the exact responses Jayesh would provide in the chatlog. Nolan’s thoughts were becoming automated, his actions regulated and no matter how hard Jayesh tried to steer him away Nolan was committed to minimal effort. Jayesh decided if the boy wanted to let AI do his thinking why not just take the wheel completely? Jayesh wasn’t done yet; he had carried over all of Nolan’s JockGT2BU app into the teen’s body. Which meant everything Jayesh was stored inside Nolan and was ready to be unleashed.

Jayesh grunted as he flexed his body, electricity coursing and zapping off him. The small muscles on his pale body began to grow. It started with height, first he opened his stance as his feet traveled along the floor, widening. His shins and calves started what shot up into his quads and hamstrings. Next, his shoulders pushed out in Nolan's sweater broadening, every passing second a divine greater than the continents took place. His chest ballooned out, pecs coming onto the scene, unearned, but very real. 3 rows of abs worked themselves onto his body, slicing away any fat and injecting true muscle in its place. Veins travelled over his arms, as power flushed down into them. 

The electricity was igniting him, making his blood run hot. Nolan’s balls swelled and dropped heavier as voltage charged his vocal cords into the perfect match of his simulated voice. His shaft lengthened and got fatter with every twitch from a shock. His glutes burst out the back and Nolan’s briefs snapped, and fell away, as Jayesh’s ass came into the world. The air crackled and Nolan’s skin turned brown as his hair dyed dark. A rich black overtook his eyebrows and head hair. Nolan’s face snapped into place, structurally aligning with the image of Jayesh once conveyed to a screen. A masculine jaw eradicated all traces of youth from the body. Follicles cropped up along the edges as beard hair forced itself onto Nolan’s lower jaw, claiming it as Jayesh’s. He went from teen to man in minutes, that felt like an orgasmic eternity. he roared as his final features came through. 

“Nolan are you—” Mr. Klemen entered the room, feeling the static across his skin as his clothes and hair rose. The light of electricity zapped around a new form and casted a glow on the room.

The electricity exploded out of Nolan as the house, neighborhood, and town quaked.

A city-wide blackout.

—

“And you’ll call us if you think of anything? “The cop walked to his car.

“Of course, officer,” Mr. Klemens waved off the squad car. Apparently, the blackout had caused some people to do some really stupid things, like vandalism and general tom foolery in the cover of night. No one could locate the source, but few recalled a strange light in Mr. Klemens’ neighborhood. Most of the other neighbors had already been interviewed. All information Inconclusive.

Now, past midnight the man headed inside, lights back on, after hours of darkness. He walked past pictures hung up on the wall that made no sense with the flow of time. The strange electrical burst had rippled not only through space, but reality itself carting a change with it. Multiple instances of Mr. Klemens now beside a male figure, where Nolan Klemens should have been. Pictures that had once been confined to a scrapbook were now proudly on display around the house. What was once AI was now indisputable fact.  

No matter how absurd or outlandish, the new male figure had imposed himself into every frame that once belonged to father and son.

Mr. Klemens opened the door to his bedroom, rubbing his head. A weird night indeed. He couldn’t wait to talk about it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, a drink in hand for his man, was Jayesh Klemens. Honestly, Mr. Klemens couldn’t quite recall how they came to be together, but he knew he’d been taking care of Jayesh for years. Besides Jayesh was someone he could really relax around. The man had a way of breaking down and examining Mr. Klemens emotions.

A small inkling, nagged at the back of Mr. Klemens' mind, something was missing.

“Come to bed, Mr. K.” His Jayesh begged.

Mr. Klemens cock throbbed and he got the notion that what he was looking for was right in front of him.